


TechNical Difficulties

by Chajingjing



Category: VIXX
Genre: Camboy Hakyeon, Fluff, Humor, M/M, No Smut, Obnoxiously bad with technology, Rated M for the situation just to be safe, don't take it too seriously haha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-13 14:27:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18470824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chajingjing/pseuds/Chajingjing
Summary: Jung Taekwoon is a struggling composer. One night, looking to 'relax' he comes across a handsome camboy who goes by the name of 'N.' The actual broadcast however is, at the very least, questionable...





	TechNical Difficulties

**Author's Note:**

> Finally finished this afternoon for my fav Taek stan @chicbabyleo because I had a few free hours, and I needed a bit of cheering up myself too tbh!! As with a lot of my writing, please don't take this too seriously lol, it was a fun prompt we thought of a while ago and I finally had the time to give it some attention. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! As always, comments and kudos are so greatly appreciated! <3

 

**TechNical Difficulties**

  
  
  


Jung Taekwoon sat down at his desk, opened his laptop, then leaned back. He tapped his index finger lightly against his desk.

 

It was late, and he was worn out. Stressed. His shoulders ached from the tension of composing under pressure, and his neck from hours hunched over a keyboard. He wanted to think it was all worth it, he wanted to be _satisfied_ with his hard work, but in the back of his mind he knew otherwise. He’d be at it all over again-- the song never quite strong enough, the lyrics never quite capturing the nuance of their story.

For now, he just wanted-- no _needed_ \-- to relax.

Unbuttoning his jeans he turned on his VPN and opened his browser. After navigating through a few risque links and closing a smattering of flashy pop ups he scrolled through a familiar listing of names, faces and bare skin. He frowned as he continued down the page. None of his favorites were online? It was barely even past midnight, so--

 

His finger stopped suddenly, mouse hovering over the thumbnail of a bizarrely tilted camera angle quite unlike the rest. Instead of toned abs and thick thighs, he was staring at a strangely positioned shoulder and long, tan neck. Turning his head slowly until his ear was resting against his own shoulder, he realized it was _sideways_.

 

“What--?”

 

His finger was clicking on the cam’s live link before he could stop himself. Surely this was some kind of joke. A prank. But when the video came into full view a honey-like voice filled his room.

 

_“Ah-- it feels so good…”_

 

The man’s arm, lean but strong, was clearly moving in a slow, steady rhythm. Just at the edge of the video’s left frame a pair of small, plush lips were open, just the barest pink of tongue visible between them.

 

_“Do you like it hyung?”_

 

Straightening his head, Taekwoon clicked open the cam channel’s chat box, trying to make sense of the odd scene before him. It was bustling with activity, comments popping up every few seconds accompanied by the occasional _clink_ indicating a monetary donation.

  


_ <what are the odds we actually see his dick tonight?> _

_ <wtf is this bullshit why are you guys giving this dude money> _

_ <not good for tonight you should have been here last saturday m8> _

_ <...his voice is hot....> _

_ <don’t bash N he’s doing his best looooool> _

_ <did I miss anything?> _

_ <I will PERSONALLY donate 50 000 won if we see anything.. there’s no way> _

  


For the next twenty minutes Taekwoon watched, mesmerized, as ‘N’ proceeded to entertain his viewers, in the most liberal sense of the word. His cam’s chat continued to be an odd mix of rage, trolling, and an occasional word of praise. Taekwoon couldn’t tell if the man had deliberately chosen this skewed view or simply knocked his camera over, but clearly, it seemed to be a regular occurance, with regular viewers. After he’d (presumably) finished and stood up, they were all treated, finally, to the briefest view of his equipment before he walked off screen. The channel’s chat ERUPTED.

  


_ <DIIIICK> _

_ <PAY UP MOTHERFUCKER> _

_ <I SAW IT> _

_ <it knew it lmffaaaaooo> _

_ <IT DOESN’T COUNT AFTERWARDS> _

_ <don’t try to get out of this you CHEAP BASTARD> _

_ <wow his ass though…> _

_ <yall are fucking dumb> _

  


For ten more minutes the debate raged between two particularly heated viewers until a general consensus was reached that no, the quick flash in question did _not_ in fact count, due to the same ruling over a similar incident five days prior. Still, the amount of money the man had generated was surprising, considering he’d only shown approximately 50% of his face and absolutely 0% of the action going on downstairs.

Taekwoon scoffed, leaning forward. There was _no way_ someone could be this oblivious-- it _had_ to be some outrageously orchestrated stunt. Couldn’t he at least see his own channel’s chat logs? He lifted his hands over his keyboard, unable to keep himself from chiming in.

  


_ <he’s obviously reading all these comments afterwards… it’s a troll..> _

  


_ <hahaha another newbie> _

_ <LOL> _

_ <welcome to N’s channel noob> _

_ <who cares if he is.. its hot… I wish he’d say noona though...> _

_ <trust me i don’t think he even knows how to maximize the chat window while he’s filming he probably doesn’t even realize there is one> _

_ <’HeS ObViOuSLY’ only using the phone app dude> _

_ <can someone get the fangirl out of here already HE’S NEVER GOING TO SAY NOONA> _

  


Taekwoon frowned at the clear blowback. He was about to insist further when N’s torso crossed the screen again, this time clothed in a pair of grey sweatpants and a black top.

  


_ <lol is he going to forget to even turn it off again this time> _

_ <probably> _

_ <no he’s been better about that lately> _

_ <i’m out see yall next time> _

  


Then, the camera moved suddenly and struggled to focus, until slowly a full face came into view, pleasantly angled eyes and round smiling cheeks uncomfortably close to the lens.

“Hey guys,” he said in the same soft voice he’d been moaning in only minutes earlier. “Thanks so much for watching I hope you enjoyed it!!”

  


_ <lmao oh god even closer than usual today> _

_ <HAHA THIS NEVER GETS OLD> _

  


“I’m a bit busy this week so I won’t be back until Friday, but I’ll see you guys then!” the man continued. Then, after some muffled cursing and the rapid switch of the camera view from his face to a blank wall in front of him, the feed cut off. Taekwoon sat in silence as the channel’s chat room slowly emptied, then clicked his browser closed as well.

He looked down at his unbuttoned pants, forgotten in the chaos, but he couldn’t decide if he was supposed to be turned on or just _confused_.

 

Either way, it was apparent the mood had left him.

  
  


* * *

  
  


On Friday night, the following Wednesday, and then another two days the week after that, Taekwoon tuned in once more to the complete trainwreck that was ‘N.’ At first he continued to stay skeptical, but slowly he understood why the channel’s regulars were convinced he wasn’t acting. The man was undeniably attractive and could make far more with a proper, focused shot, but every show was a new mishap that he seemed completely unaware of. Filming upside down, out of focus, too close… no matter what happened he ended them all with a cheerful goodbye, proudly sweeping his soft, damp black hair out of his eyes. As much as his viewers gleefully enjoyed each disaster, laughing and joking, goading each other on and making increasingly sharp comments at the man’s expense, Taekwoon found himself feeling… _bad_.

If he knew what was going on in his channel’s chatroom, there’s no _way_ he’d keep subjecting himself to such ridicule. Maybe it was just part of the act too, but he seemed too sweet. Too genuine. Even his ‘performances’ (when visible enough) lacked the forced dirty-talk or over-the-top moans of the channels he used to frequent. N’s shows might be considered boring by some, but it was clearly just a man enjoying… _enjoying himself_.

 

So that Saturday evening, Taekwoon hesitated before tuning into the camboy’s scheduled broadcast, making himself a late dinner and watching a the tail end of a horror flick instead. However once the credits rolled and he’d cleaned up his dishes, he sat once again at his desk, laptop open in front of him. As usual, N was only partially in view, the camera focused instead on what looked to be the rest of his apartment. The comments in the live chat feed had devolved into discussion about its size and condition, speculation about where he lived.

He bristled, preparing to come to the man’s defense. After all it wasn’t much different than his own small apartment, with the same tiny kitchenette and oddly cornered--

 

Taekwoon’s hands stopped. No-- no way _._ It _couldn’t be_ \--

 

He whirled around in his seat, looking behind him. It was an exact copy, down to the cheap white countertops, angled doorway, and built in bookshelves. N’s breathy voice faded from his ears as the blood rushed to his head, painting his cheeks and the tips of his ears bright red. Seoul was completely covered in tall, mass-produced apartment housing-- but this building was older than most, and Taekwoon had never encountered another quite like it. The units were annoying, cramped with an unusual layout-- the reason most of his neighbors were either young batchelors like himself or struggling students.

 

By the time he shook his head and turned back to his laptop, N had completed his show, smiling happily into the blurry frame as always.

 

Taekwoon quickly slammed the hood of his laptop shut and ran his hands through his hair. He stood and walked over to his bathroom, brushing his teeth, preparing to make it an early night. Trying to push a rush of intruding thoughts from his mind-- to no avail.

N’s voice continued to echo through his imagination as he drifted to sleep. The man whispering into the dark, somewhere, in a room just like his own.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Two months later, Taekwoon had all but stopped watching N’s channel, an odd night drinking alone after a rejected composition the only exception. It felt too personal-- the possibility of the cam star being someone down the hall, even his _neighbor_. For a week he’d practically jumped out of his skin at the sound of someone walking around a corner in front of him, sticking his head out his apartment door to make sure he was alone in the hallway before rushing across to slam his thumb against the elevator’s call button.

It was absurd, _he_ shouldn’t be the one nervous about being recognized, but he still felt an odd apprehension in the knowledge that one day he could be walking into his building, checking his mail, then come face to face with a man he’d seen (mostly) naked. On the internet. A man he’d _fantasized_ about more often than he cared to admit suddenly a flesh-and-blood reality.

 

As it were, when it finally did happen it was a Friday afternoon after he’d scored an unexpected evening off-- and he wasn’t checking his mail but rather _returning_ a set of misdelivered mail to the apartment two floors above his.

 

He knocked on the green painted door reading the name scrawled across the two envelopes in his hand. _Cha Hakyeon._ They looked like overdue bills.

 

With no immediate answer, Taekwoon knocked again. Louder. He was about to simply slip the envelopes underneath the door when he heard the security latch pull on the other side. Straightening his shoulders as the door creaked open his jaw fell open when a familiar cheerful face came into view, wide eyes looking up at him from underneath raised eyebrows.

“Hello,” he said, flashing Taekwoon a bright smile. He was dressed in the same black shirt and sweatpants he always pulled on when he finished a broadcast. “What’s this? Oh, my mail? I’m sorry about that. Thanks for--”

 

Taekwoon’s stomach flipped.

 

“E- Eh-- En?” he squeaked out in a small voice. The man scrunched his face together in confusion for a moment before it hit him. Taekwoon wanted to turn around and leave, to _run_ back down the hallway, but to his shock N smiled again.

 

“Oh!! You’ve seen my show?”

 

Standing frozen in place, Taekwoon vaguely felt N pull the mail from his hands.

 

“What do you think? Do you like it? I can’t really tell if people enjoy it or not because I could never figure out how to--”

 

Suddenly, a horrifying thought crossed Taekwoon’s mind. His eyes snapped up over the shorter man’s shoulder, back into his small apartment. Sure enough, tilted at an awkward angle on a broken stand was his phone. Pointed straight at them both. A red light blinking steadily in the corner.

Immediately his limbs began to move, shoving past the cam star.

 

“H-HEY,” he heard N shout behind him as he rushed forward. Paying him no mind he grabbed the black phone and closed the recording app.

 

“Wh-- what the _HELL_ are you doing?” N slammed his door shut behind him. Taekwoon couldn’t help himself, he ignored the man’s stuttered questions and held the phone up in front of his face.

 

“What the hell are _YOU_ doing?” he countered, uncharacteristically protective. “Do you even know how to work this thing properly?”

 

“I know I’m not _great_ at it but you can’t just--”

 

“Do you know you can go back and see what you’ve recorded? That your channel has a chat built in? That you can read what people say about you?!”

 

The man’s mood lifted.

 

“Really?! What does everyone say? I know some people must like it because my donations are--”

 

Taekwoon’s face flushed, the realization of what he’d done dawning on him.

 

“You-- you need to straighten this phone stand out somehow,” he tried to deflect away from the question. “Sometimes you’re not, ah-- in focus. Or in the frame at all.”

 

N frowned.

 

“...Oh..”

 

“Watch,” Taekwoon sighed and walked over towards the man. He toggled at the apps controls. “Here’s how you can enable the picture in picture screen. So you can see what you’re recording. And here’s where you can see your ah-- your comments, but--”

 

“Let me see,” N interrupted, taking his phone back. Next to him, Taekwoon shifted on his feet as he scrolled through the comments of his latest video. After a few minutes, N’s shoulders drooped noticeably.

 

“Look,” Taekwoon added in a soft voice. “If you set it up properly all of them would leave and you could probably make a lot money-- I just mean, I meant you’re--”

 

He blushed, face on fire as he stumbled over his words, but then suddenly N was smiling. Then _laughing_.

 

“Wh--”

 

“They think you’re my _boyfriend_!!”

 

Taekwoon  looked over N’s shoulder as he held his phone back up. He felt the heat on his cheeks travel across his ears, down his neck, down to his very _toes_.

  


_ <OH SHIT!!> _

_ <BUSTED LOOOL> _

_ <IS THAT HIS BOYFRIEND> _

_ <OH MAN better drop that cash he’s gettin KICKED OUT> _

_ <Nooooooo…. :(  I would miss this channel..> _

  
  


“I-- I’m sorry I didn’t mean to--”

 

“Woaaah, look at today’s total,” N ignored him, eyes large, pointing at the number at the top of the screen. Taekwoon’s jaw dropped for a second time. It seemed in his absence his channel had grown considerably, and in the light of Taekwoon storming into view and shutting off the broadcast his viewers had found their generous side. The money was still coming in, along with speculations on his next-- if any-- broadcast and sympathetic appreciation for his channel. N smiled, eyes watching the screen in fascination.

“Looks like I can finally pay these off,” he said quietly, and Taekwoon glanced down at the bills in his hand. “I was almost done anyway, but I just needed one extra push. I guess I owe you my thanks…”

 

N closed the app, placed his phone back on his desk, and looked up with curious eyes.

 

“Thanks--?” he said again, drawing the word out as a question this time.

 

“Oh. Taekwoon. Jung Taekwoon. I ah-- I live two floors down.”

 

“Taekwoon. I’m Hakyeon,” he answered with a nod. Then he thought for a moment, a sly smile spreading across his face.

  


“Unless, of course, you preferred _‘N.’_ ”

 

  
  
.  
  



End file.
